


rip and rend and tear and shred

by Ziek



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, Fantasy AU, Murder, basically he's a werewolf but... deer, is it really cannibalism if youre a werewolf deer man eating a human, lycanthrope will graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziek/pseuds/Ziek
Summary: Will Graham finds out he's not as human as he thinks.---an AU where Will is a stagfolk; a being able to shift into a form resembling that of a stag. Takes place in a medieval setting. Using this fic as a way to warm up into writing more.
Kudos: 13





	rip and rend and tear and shred

**Author's Note:**

> criticism and comments are more than welcome!

_The moon was a blood red, hanging in the pitch black sky. It cast its tone over the dense woodland, over the rippling muscles of the beast. The shuddered under the crimson moonlight, a guttural animal noise gurgling in its throat. Thick blood washed over it, moving in waves drawn by the moon and---_

An urgent pounding at his oaken door startled Will awake. The noise was accompanied by the pained shouts of a man, his voice nearing hysterics. Will shifted out of bed, the sheen of sweat on his body glistening in the moonlight coming in through the window. He grabbed the coarse blanket off of his bed, wiping the sweat off of his body as much as he could, throwing it back on the bed in a pile.

Will’s head throbbed in the background as he made his way through the front door, groggily finding his way through the dark house. His white linen shirt stuck to his skin uncomfortably, sweat soaked through the front and back. Will rolled his shoulders with a crack, trying to air out his skin underneath but to no avail. 

The man’s pleas for help on the other side of the door had become louder as Will came closer and closer to the heavy door, interspersed with sobbing. “Please, _please_ , if anyone --- if anyone’s in there! I need help!” he shouted.

With no sense of urgency Will opened the door a smidge, peeking through the small crack to find a bloodied man, _the iron tang in the air_ , sporting mussed hair and a green tunic with shreds criss crossing his chest, _vulnerable_.

Will could feel the oncoming of a headache form, the faint throbbing in his head beginning to surface. His skin itched and pricked; Will raised a hand to his forearm to scratch dully at it, opening the door slowly with the other hand.

“Come in,” Will murmured slowly as he stepped aside into the dark of his house. Pain pulsed through his head, synchronized to the beat of his heart. He eyed the man up and down, not missing how his mouth _salivated_ at the torn skin and glossy blood. In his bleariness, he didn’t question his body’s reaction.

The man hobbled past Will, leaning against a wall and sliding down, holding his hand against the wound on his chest feebly. Will pressed the door closed, his hands going on autopilot and locking the door. He could feel his hands itch, his head aching with pain. His thoughts were wild; just as he thought he processed one, it slipped out of his hands like the fish he caught for a living. As soon as the man had called out in pain, a haze had creeped its way into his throbbing skull.

The man writhed in pain, quiet whines and whimpers tumbling through his lips as he raised his eyes to Will.

“There were--” he swallowed, taking a breath before continuing, “there were wolves. Along--along the trail home.” The man blinked up at him, a blade gripped tightly in his hand; it was stained with what Will assumed to be wolf blood.

Will gave no comment as he took a slow step forward, eyeing the vicious bite marks. The fog in his head only thickened, a buzz ringing in his ears, the edges of his vision darkening. His eyes were sharp in the dark of the house, moonlight glinting in his dilated pupils. He could see the man’s jaw moving up and down in speech, although he didn’t hear a single word. The buzzing in his ears drowned out any sound coming from the figure beneath him.

His body went on autopilot, no thought in Will’s head as he lunged for the man slumped against the wall. His whole body ached, shook, twitched, shivered, _itched_.

Will was ravenous.

If the man screamed, Will couldn’t tell. He clutched at his shoulders, lifting him off the ground and against the wall. Everything in his body screamed at Will to bite _._ Tear _. Devour._ He put up no fight with his instincts, plunging his teeth---were they always that sharp?---into the injured man’s jugular, ripping out his throat. A spray of blood erupted, coating Will’s rabid expression. The tang of gore on his tongue tasted like a gift from the heavens. Will swallowed it down, thick heat dripping down his throat and pooling in his stomach. A rush of adrenaline and excitement wormed its way through the haze in his mind, making him feel sharper and more alive than he’s ever been before. Even more alive than when he had caught a werewolf or a vampire or some other beast, hunting them down til their deaths.

His hands deftly ripped the man’s tunic from his body, the slowing rush of blood streaming down the man’s neck onto his now bare chest. Without hesitation, Will dipped his head down to sink his teeth down into his chest, relishing the way his teeth pierced through the thin skin and into warm, savoury flesh.

With a cry, Will throttled his head back into the air, a sharp pain splitting his head. An animalistic snarl gurgled in his throat as he tumbled to the floor, arms reaching up to cradle his head. The corpse of the man dropped down with him, ragdolling against the wall. Will’s bloodstained hands combed through his hair, finding the source of his pain to be two hard knobs at the top of his head, blood matting the hair there. He whimpered as he felt along the knobs, a growing sensation of sharp pain forming as they began to grow upward. With a gasp he fell to his forearms, heaving as his body ached and prickled.

The thick flavor of blood in his mouth egged Will on to crawl his way along the floorboards to the still-warm body. Time seemed to slow down as he made his way over to the man, mindlessly noting the dark, iridescent patches of fur and feathers lining the outer parts of his arms, the sharpened _claws_ that had grown over his nails. Blood seeped from these areas; Will stopped in his movements to dip a finger in his mouth, running his tongue over the blood pooling at the base of the nail.

Not quite as satisfying as the man’s had been, he continued on with his efforts and heaved himself over the body, taking another rip out of chilling flesh, blood spilling down his bared teeth and over his jaws.

* * *

Will always knew there was something off about him. Something that made him different from others, something that made him more of a monster than a man. While he didn’t particularly like to know this truth, he had to acknowledge it. Harbor it.

Hunting beasts and creatures always felt like hunting other men. His oddity gave them humanity. Will couldn’t say he was shocked at this development; he was relieved that his dark urges were not one of his own mind’s faults, but instead instincts of his nature.

Shadows danced on the walls, light from the bustling fire flickering across the shredded, marred body. The body of a complete stranger, one that had trusted in Will for assistance. The flesh had been ripped clean off of the bone in most places, the man totally unrecognizable now. Shreds of cloth hung off the sides of the carcass, forgotten in Will’s conquest. He flexed his fingers, sparks of energy coursing through his veins. Intense euphoria crashed over him in waves. Will’s eyes stung with unshed tears. 

Drunk off of the man’s lifeblood, Will slowly stumbled to his door, unlocking the door with quick hands and leaving the house. As if on autopilot, he took long strides to the field behind his house, the moon the only source of light.

His dark, bloodstained oaken antlers caught the light of the moon. The muscles under his utterly ruined pale shirt rippled, fur and feathers rising in the chill of the autumn air.

Will stopped in his tracks, standing for what seemed like forever, admiring how the blood on most of his skin looked black in the moonlight.


End file.
